The Hordes of Lorakaii

The frost was coming. You could see it in the puffs of hot breath lingering in the air, the dropping of yellow and orange leaves from trees lining the hillside, and feel it in the chill of your bones. The thin long-sleeved tunic I’d managed to hang onto over the years was not enough to keep the cool air from chilling me to the core. Neither was the pair of too big moccasins I wore on my feet. Both were hand me down donations from my brothers.

My people had been dumped here as a last resort to keep our race alive. A tentative treaty had been made with our cohabitants. The original leader of our small group had bartered his life in hand-to-hand combat with the Lorakaii king. When he lost, the king took pity on the small, weakened group of Kesseri that were left over. The Lorakaii people were large, towering beings with tanned skin swirling with gold or silver designs. Some of the higher ranking Lorakaii had swirls of glittering black designs. My own kind shared their tanned skin but lacked their stature. Our males were tall, willowy with thin cords of muscle. They worked their fields with bare hands, no weapons, and strict rules on mating. Kesseri males were not allowed to take females until neighboring Lorakaii Hordes had chosen to take one of us as their own. As a result, many females were hidden from the Lorakaii. Myself included.

However, my small village was on the outskirts of most Horde routes. I hadn’t been subjected to the selection of Lorakaii males. The Hordes tended to stick to specific routes that took them through trading posts, bigger settlements of Kesseri, and their capitol. The maps of their routes lined the walls of my village leaders’ home. He held counsel there regularly, warning the males if a Horde ventured outside of their usual tracks. Lately, they had been getting closer. Our small valley at the base of the mountainous hills had been secluded and shut off from the rest of the world. It was nestled in a deep set of trees before a clearing spanned out along the base of rocky hills. In the summers, it flourished with kekkiri. A large animal with fatty flesh and a thick hide. It was hard to kill. Our males were rarely able to catch one, let alone kill it. But when they did, the rations made from its flesh lasted for a long time. It wasn’t enough to kill fat on our bones. But the crops of roots, berries, and starchy privya kept starvation from lingering.

My belly rumbled. Reminding me that I had skipped another meal. The rations were beginning to become thinner as the village prepared for the cold months. I had begun stockpiling my portion, choosing to save them for the late hour meals. Instead, I snacked on the fall berries that grew deep in the forest. I spent most of my time here, choosing to stay away from the males in the village. They vied for female attention. The few females that had grown up in the village chose to entertain their attention. They wanted to be secure, warm, and provided for by the males. I was an outsider. I had been brought to the village by my brothers at a young age. They had been caught hunting for precious varriki, another animal to the south of here. Easier to kill, but peaceful creatures. When they had come home frantic, they had taken me to this village, dropped me off, and continued running from the Horde that was tasked with delivering punishment. This village did not want to accept the possible dangers of an outside female from a running family. They risked their entire existence by bringing me here. As a result, they never accepted me completely. My small home was situated further from theirs, my rations smaller, and my presence shunned. While I knew them by name, they never cared to learn mine. I cannot remember the last time I had heard my name spoken out loud. I have spent the last twelve years of my life alone.

Shoving myself off the boulder I perched on while enjoying the sweet hikru berries, I landed lightly on the mossy creek bank. The squelch of wetness between my toes made me wrinkle my nose, knowing I’d have to scrub the muck from between my toes again. The satchel across my back carried a full load of hikru berries. My mouth watered at the future jam I would make with it. A few jars to last me the winter, and a few to trade for fresh water and maybe a new fur blanket if I was lucky. The females of my village were not well versed in making jams or jarred foods. They grew up here, where they were taught to preserved meats, dry vegetables, and weave dried moss into the thready yarn for new tunics. Although I was overdue for a new one, I was reluctant to give up my oldest brother’s tunic. It was ratted at the bottom, patched with scrabs of cloth left over from clothing that no longer fit me. But it was a comfort I no longer had. A small smile stretched across my full pink lips at the thought of him. Always the protector, the mediator of our small family.

The snapping of branches tore the memory away. My eyes flew in the direction the noise came from. My white pupils constricting as I focused on the sway of trees, a flash of dark hair, and finally, the sight of a large male marked with black ink. My lips parted, drawing in a shaky breath of air. The Lorakkaii male froze as his eyes settled on me. The top of his dark cropped hair brushing against the branches of the willox trees that surrounded my home. He was at least taller than me by eighteen inches, and three times as wide. His long legs would no doubt allow him to outrun me. Though my shorter frame was willowy, allowing me to be quick, I knew… I had no chance of getting away. Instead, I stayed where I was. My toes curling into the comfort of the moss beneath them. Forgetting the mud I had cursed only moments ago.

“Kesseri.” The male spoke, his deep voice carrying across the short distance that now separated us. His feet drew him closer, his long-tufted tail flickering out behind him. Kesseri were not much different from them after all. My only tail flickered behind me, curling closer to my legs in a show of nerves. It was a traitor, giving away my fear. “Do not be afraid, no harm will come to you, mkria.”

Mkria. Female.

The soft breeze that blew through the trees just then caused my strawberry blonde curls to fly around my back. The tips of it brushed my hips, swirling around the gentle curve there. The male’s black eyes followed the movement, dragging from my hair to my body, the position of my tail, and back to my eyes. Unlike my own eyes with white pupils and a solid gold iris surrounded by blackness, his were a solid black. No iris, no pupil. An eerie darkness that gave no indication of his intentions. Neither did his face. A blank expression adorned his features. High cheekbones, a sharp jaw, dimpled cheeks, thick lips, and a flat bridged nose. He was handsome.

“I am not afraid.” My voice was strong, but shaky in response. I took a step backwards, my back pressing against the boulder behind me. My short nails dug into the rock, as if begging it to open up and swallow me hole. I should not have been here. If I had been within the village limits, I would not have given away the presence of a Kesseri village.

“You do not sound so confident, mkria.” This Lorakaii male now stood before me, inches away. My previous possibility of escape was impossible. Any movement I made would be mimicked, watched. I could almost imagine the feeling of his large hands on me if I tried to dart around him. Guilt grew inside of me. Despite their cold treatment of me, I knew there was no way I could warn the village of their discovery. They would have to face the consequences, just as I would. “Will you come willingly? Or will I have to force you?”

“Will you leave the village alone?” I questioned, straightening my shoulders. My small body quivered from the wind. The cold drifting in as night started to settle over the forest that I called home. The Lorakaii male seemed surprised at my question.

“That village has been left alone for years, Kesseri. It is their time to give a female.” The male stated. They had known of our existence? “There is nothing your race has done that we do not know about. Our Hordes may make predictable routes, but make no mistake, mkria, we know everything that crosses our land.”

“The females in that village have all been mated.” I whispered, as if that could change his mind. “Many have already had children.”

Lorakaii males upheld the honor of mating between Kesseri females and Kesseri males if they already had children. My brothers had encouraged me to pick a Kesseri male so I would not be given to a Lorakaii male. They had tried to encourage it when I first bled before they began their hunting. But I had protested. I was still too young to consider a mate. Now, I was at the perfect age for a Lorakaii male.

“And you, mkria?” He studied me again. His eyes studying the tunic I wore. The thin fabric allowed my pebbled nipples to poke through, giving away their heaviness. Beyond that, my figure was hidden from him. Though it mattered not, the male was seemingly satisfied with what he could see.

“No, I have not.” My voice stayed as a whisper. My eyes settling on the thick muscles of his abdomen. The black markings had not crossed along his belly, instead they slid down his sides, twisting across his hip bones before disappearing under the thick pants he wore. My hands itched to trace the pattern, curious what each marking meant. It was not clear to me if this species was born to them, or if they were gifted them based off their rank. How did they choose a leader?

“Then I will have you.” It was decided. I could tell by the tone of his voice. There was no arguing with him. There was no way out. I was chosen by a Lorakaii Horde king.